


say my name

by firetan



Category: Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabble, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9631412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firetan/pseuds/firetan
Summary: the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them say your name.





	

He _knows_. Knows it even before she opens her mouth, which is absurd as there’s no real way to know without at least hearing it. There’s just something about the lady standing before him, dark hair covering one eye and white bandages peeking out from under her sleeves like mocking laughter, that makes the back of his neck prickle and a sort of quiet hesitation coil in the pit of his stomach.

There are protocols, of course. Servants do not address those they serve by proper name, but always with a title — the title somehow negates it, which seems rather ironic when one considers how much stock nobles put in them. Such importance, placed on an arbitration honorific that has already been deemed by whatever higher force links soulmates together to be irrelevant and obstructive. And yet those with blue blood cling to their titles as though they’re prizes and jewels, cleaning them like trophies and displaying them for the world to see.

Ah, well, it’s little wonder royals rarely married for love. And it would be inconvenient for them to go around finding their soulmates in _commoners_ and _servants_ , wouldn’t it?

Effortlessly concealing the bitter grimace that his thoughts try to invoke, Jasper runs through the usual litany of questions with this summit’s lady — Irina of Hise, more commonly known by her moniker ‘Lady Fire’ or her pirate title ‘Bloodthorn’ — and observes her carefully as she responds, noting the stiffness of her posture and the practiced blankness of her expression as she speaks. He can’t help but feel a little disappointed. 

True, she hasn’t said his name yet — he doesn’t _know_ — but he has a feeling, and his feelings are rarely wrong. And for them to be triggered by someone like _this_  — proper, prim, just another noble to serve — it’s not particularly encouraging.

He’s just starting to resign himself to it, asking tiredly about how she would make use of power should she gain it, when her voice perks up and her eyes brighten, and he’s abruptly trapped by the sudden sunlight in her gaze.

“Well, any good captain knows that the secret to success is a well-supported and well-guided crew. If the captain only cares about bettering _their_ life and skills without mind for those who support them, they’ll find themselves with either a mutiny or an empty ship in no time. I’d hardly say _that’s_ an ambition to pursue — no, it’s for the good of my mates or none at all.”

That certainly gives him a little more reason to school his expression, else he might give in and return the almost-shy smile starting to tug at her lips. “You see the Summit as analogous to captaining a ship?”

She laughs — _laughs_ — and though it’s hesitant, reluctant, as though she hadn’t realized she could make such a sound, Jasper has to take a moment to remind himself that he has a duty to uphold and should not allow his lips to smile and his eyes to crinkle in surprised delight at the noise. “Stormy seas, holding my ground against tight-laced folks who want something from me, the occasional spar or shoot-off, and a loyal crew?” One of her hands — the one mottled with burn scars — gestures airily towards him and then the door, and he barely manages to not blink in surprise. “But of _course_! The only difference is that here I’m fighting with _words_ instead of a cutlass and boathooks.”

The lady — _his lady_ — smiles charmingly (clearly, what she said earlier about not being charming was biased, since he finds it hard to see how she could not charm people if she spoke like this to them— and derail _that_ train of thought, he has a job to do), and only the slightest flicker of apprehension crosses her gaze as he calls Ria and Sayra in and conducts the proper introductions.

Once it is her turn, she dips into a graceful, if somewhat stiff (body accustomed to other movements, he supposes, since she was— _is_ — a pirate) curtsy and smiles somewhat hesitantly at them. “Irina of Hise, daughter of Captain Catherine Blackthorn and Lord Piotr of Ravenskeep, at your service.” 

Jasper is still musing to himself at the significance of her placing her _mother_ first in the lineage, clearly indicative of just how important the pirate Blackthorn is to her daughter, when she continues with a friendly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Please take care of me in the coming weeks, Ria,” The red-haired maid flushes beneath her freckles and smiles, “Sayra,” the taller maid allows herself a softer expression and respectful nod, “Jasper.”

_And there it is._

He’s only read about it, observed it, discussed it with the others… but to _feel_ it? The way his name curls off her lips and outlines her silhouette with a golden glow that only his eyes can see, the way the sound of it enters his ears and sends creeping vines of warmth coiling under his skin like an artist’s calligraphy dipped in metallic ink. It feels as though there are motes of pure _light_ prickling along his nerves and at the tips of his fingers, and he has to freeze his sharp inhale before it enters his lungs.

To feel it is _beautiful_ , and he absolutely cannot tell _anyone_.

He returns her words with a carefully controlled bow, one hand crossing his chest and expression painfully neutral, and thinks as he watches her new maids bustle around her to prepare for the Welcome Feast that if he has to be tied to someone by this strange force, he has a niggling feeling that he will not regret that person being _her_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Because why not.


End file.
